Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52King, William Ross
History
Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52
King, William Ross
South Africa -- History -- Frontier Wars, 1811-1878
This dense and beautiful bush extends for miles on every side; its
solitary depths impassable except to Kaffirs and wild beasts, hundreds
of which latter roam through it undisturbed. Tigers, hyænas, wild-cats,
and jackals abound; and buffaloes and elephants are still occasionally
seen, of which we had convincing evidence in the fresh spoor of three
of the latter, whose enormous foot-prints were distinctly visible, and
made one's heart beat with excitement at the idea of being in a country
where such noble beasts roamed wild and unrestrained. The waggon
track was in many parts very beautiful, sometimes so narrow that the
overhanging trees, covered with festoons of grey pendant lichen, met
above it; in others, opening out into smooth green lawn-like patches,
surrounded by brilliantly flowered trees and shrubs (as the crimson
boerboon,[3] and the yellow mimosa, with its gigantic milk-white
thorns); everywhere clusters of the beautiful pale blue plumbago, with
numberless aloes and occasional euphorbias, rising to the height of
thirty feet; the underwood filled with the "stapelia," "gasteria,"
and other varieties of cactus. The heat of the sun was again most
oppressive, shut in as we were between walls of bush, so close, that
not a breath of air found its way through. The oxen were so completely
done up, that they could scarcely draw the heavily-laden waggons
through the deep sand, and numbers fell, to die on the roadside, or
were abandoned a prey to the wild beasts and vultures.
Halting for half an hour to rest the cattle at the top of a heavy hill,
a lovely view presented itself: in the foreground, the road we had just
passed, winding down into the bush below; beyond that, a vast extent
of flat, thickly-wooded country; and far off, a fine chain of rugged
mountains, mellowed by the purple atmosphere of the distance, into a
mistlike softness.
Late in the day, we entered on an extensive grassy plain, affording a
grateful relief to the eye, after the close smothering road through the
bush. Three distant specks on the vast level proved, when we came up,
to be as many waggons outspanned by a large "vley" or pool of water;
their owners, a company of traders, cooking supper and smoking their
pipes, looked a picture of ease and comfort, strongly contrasted with
our dusty and way worn appearance. We saw several "duykerbok," and
encamped at sunset, driving in our last tent-pegs by the light of a
beautiful moon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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